


The Glitter of Snow in Sunlight

by Woldy



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character of Color, Community: camelotsolstice, Dancing, F/F, F/M, Foursome, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Happy, M/M, Multi, POV Female Character, Polyamory, Solstice, Winter, Winter Solstice, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-03
Updated: 2011-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-15 08:50:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woldy/pseuds/Woldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you choose a solstice gift for the King who has everything?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Glitter of Snow in Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://cat-77.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**cat_77**](http://cat-77.dreamwidth.org/) as part of [](http://camelotsolstice.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**camelotsolstice**](http://camelotsolstice.dreamwidth.org/) . This story is AU insofar as it's based on Season 1, but largely ignores Seasons 2 and 3. Many thanks to [](http://riventhorn.livejournal.com/profile)[**riventhorn**](http://riventhorn.livejournal.com/) for betaing. _Edited to add:_ Alas, because I am a moron, the fic posted at [](http://camelotsolstice.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**camelotsolstice**](http://camelotsolstice.dreamwidth.org/) was the unbetaed version and I failed to notice. My apologies to everyone, especially [](http://cat-77.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**cat_77**](http://cat-77.dreamwidth.org/). This version includes my beta's corrections.

It isn't the coldest winter in living memory because old Cam McCuddick tells everyone that he remembers a year when even the harbour froze, but it's the coldest weather Gwen's ever known. There's a layer of ice on the inside of the windows every morning, and the pump in the main square froze solid two weeks ago and hasn't worked since.

By evening the cottage will be warm from the fire in Elyan's forge, but now the fire is banked and Gwen's hands are clumsy with cold as she buttons her cardigan. She fastens her cloak, pulls the hood over her head for the little warmth it provides, and steels herself to go out into the dark streets. It's less than a ten-minute walk to the castle, but with snow on the ground and a cold wind gusting, Gwen will be chilled to the bone by the time she arrives.

Every morning there's a part of Gwen that wishes she had accepted the offer of a room in the castle, but she knows she'd make the same decision again. Arthur's reforms have to be gradual if they are to going to win support, and repealing the prohibition on magic was far more important than changing the social politics of court. Gwen has seen the tension fall away from Merlin and Morgana in the months since Uther's death, their secrecy and brittleness replaced by laughter and growing confidence. No matter how cold it is, Gwen doesn't regret choosing their safety and happiness over her own comfort. Gwen pulls the cloak tightly around her, steps out into the cold morning air, and tugs the door closed behind her.

The sky above is a deep, clear blue, but the eastern horizon is tinged with gold. There are already several people on the street delivering goods and setting up their stalls, and in an hour the city will be bustling. Camelot's market has been busier than ever since Arthur's coronation, and Elyan's services have been in high demand from people wanting tools made or horses shod.

"Curfews are no good for business," Elyan had explained one night. "Now people come into the city without worrying. Even the druids are trading in Camelot, instead of travelling to Mercia."

If it wasn't for Merlin and Morgana, Gwen doesn't think Arthur would have lifted the ban on magic, but the increase in trade has justified the decision. She wonders if Uther knew how much everyone in Camelot suffered as a result of his prejudices.

The snow crunches under Gwen's feet as she hurries along the street and turns the corner towards the upper city. She smiles at the guards as she passes the gate, and one of them smiles back. Gwen might not be a servant any more, not exactly, but she's not ashamed of her past and is determined to maintain her friendships amongst the castle staff and townsfolk.

The flagstones are icy; Gwen treads carefully as she crosses the courtyard and climbs the steps. Then she walks through the main doors to the castle, and feels the warmth wash over her. A fire is blazing in the entrance hall, and Gwen lingers in front of it, spreading her hands wide to warm her fingers.

"Morning!" says a cheerful voice, and Gwen turns to see Merlin coming up the steps from the kitchen. He's holding two steaming mugs and offers one to Gwen.

"Wasn't that for Arthur?"

"I'll get him another. He'll never know," Merlin says with a shrug.

Gwen takes the mug gratefully, sips it, and the heat spreads through her immediately. She takes another gulp of the hot, spiced wine, and reflects that their odd, intermediate status has some advantages: ordinary servants don't get wine, but nobles have no access to the kitchen. This way Merlin and Gwen get to drink mulled wine while it's still hot, instead of being served it lukewarm at the table.

"It snowed again last night," Merlin observes, joining her in front of the fire.

"You haven't annoyed any forest spirits or priestesses of the old religion again have you?" Gwen asks lightly, teasing.

"If any supernatural powers were angry then it would be Arthur's fault, not mine," Merlin says with a grin, "but no. I think it's just winter being...wintery. In Ealdor we usually got snow before the solstice."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that," Gwen says, lowering her voice and glancing around the corridor to check that nobody can overhear them. "What are we going to do about Arthur and Morgana's solstice gifts?"

"I didn't get anything for Arthur last year," Merlin says, and takes an absentminded sip of his hot wine. "Course, then we weren't..."

 _Exactly_ , Gwen thinks. Their unspoken relationship is the complicating factor in all of this. If it was just a case of giving a present to one's friend or employer then Gwen would understand what was expected. She has no idea what the expectations are for a relationship like this, and figuring it out is like finding your way in the dark: clumsy, uncertain, and always afraid of tripping up.

"They'll be giving us something, though," she says because she's sure it's true—Morgana has given her a gift every solstice for years, and there's no way she'll let Arthur forget. "It's the first solstice with Arthur as king, so I feel as though it should be...well, special. Something he'll remember fondly."

"What can we give them that they don't already have?" says Merlin, putting his fingers on the problem Gwen has run up against.

"Nothing," Gwen replies, and then corrects herself. "I mean, nothing they could buy, so I usually make something for Morgana. She already has lots of beautiful things, and I can't create anything as fine or intricate as the gifts other people buy her, but I've always thought...well, maybe it's silly, but I value things my dad made more than the ones I got in the market. It's nice to have things made for you by people you love. This year maybe we could do something together?"

"You mean something with magic?" Merlin asks quietly, giving her an intent look.

"Not necessarily! I don't want to pressure you."

"If we can figure out what they want, then I'll make it happen," Merlin says, and Gwen hears something of the same determination with which Merlin has fought monsters and evil magicians.  When Merlin has set his mind on something, woe betide anyone who tries to stop him.

"Well..."Gwen says, hesitantly, "I think we should spend time together, just the four of us. I don't have a plan, exactly, but I'd like to do something simple, without all the ceremonies. Of course, we'd need something to distract Arthur from court duties."

As Merlin turns his head, Gwen's not sure whether the flash of gold in his eyes is magic or just the reflection from the fire.

He says, "If you can manage the plan, I'll handle the distraction."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's not that Arthur is bad at planning, precisely; it's just that he only seems capable of it on a grand scale. Morgana has watched him organise Camelot's food supplies and develop intricate defensive strategies for every contingency, but she's also seen him panic about finding a present on the morning of Gwen's birthday.

Morgana will grudgingly admit that Arthur is a good ruler — far better than his father, although not as good as she would have been if things were different — but sometimes he lacks the personal touch. When it comes to the emotional dynamics of the castle Morgana is the undisputed Queen, which is why she starts planning her solstice gifts when the first leaves start falling, instead of waiting for the first frost.

On top of Arthur's inadequate preparation, he's disastrously bad at selecting gifts. The best present Morgana has ever received from him was an intricately decorated dagger, which has sat unused in a box beneath her bed ever since.

On Morgana's last birthday Arthur arrived at her bedroom after breakfast, announced "Your present is outside. Follow me," and led her in the direction of the stables.

Morgana had a brief surge of hope that he'd bought her a horse, perhaps a grey Palfrey mare like her childhood favourite, and then Arthur had led her to a stall occupied by four sheep.

 "They're Castillian!" Arthur said in a tone that suggested this was a great achievement, like the ovine equivalent of winning a tournament. "I'm told they have the finest fleece of any breed."

Morgana stared at the sheep, which were eating hay impassively. One of them bleated at her.

"Thank you," she said weakly. "They're...just what I wanted."

Three years ago Arthur had presented her with a cavalry shield at her birthday dinner.

"It's impenetrable!" Arthur had declared, heaving the enormous shield out from under the table and holding it up.

Morgana had to concede that the shield, three-feet high and made of gleaming, heavily studded iron, was impressive, but it was also far too heavy for someone of her build. Moreover, she couldn't imagine any situation when she'd have cause to use a cavalry shield — an ordinary shield, certainly, because she still enjoyed beating Arthur at swordplay, but a cavalry shield? Where on earth was she supposed to find a lance, a full suit of armour, a battle charger, and an opponent?

When Morgana had been silent long enough to seem impolite, Uther had intervened.

"It's an excellent shield," Uther had said, giving Morgana a look, "and I'm sure Morgana appreciates the fine workmanship."

"Er, yes!" Morgana had said quickly. "It looks very...shieldy."

Sir Leon had carried the shield to Morgana's room, where it sat in the corner untouched for weeks. In the end Morgana instructed the guards to hide the shield amongst Uther's armour and hoped Arthur hadn't noticed.

Given Arthur's dismal record with gifts, Morgana knows that the only way Merlin or Gwen will get solstice presents they actually want is if she chooses them herself. Still, unless she wants to watch Arthur give hopeless gifts in addition to her carefully chosen ones, Morgana has to convince him to cooperate. She waits for a moment when Arthur is alone and touches his arm to catch his attention.

"Have you given any thought to solstice gifts?"

"It's far too early to think about that," Arthur says, not looking up from the scroll spread out on the table. "The solstice is weeks away."

" _Three_ weeks," Morgana says. "Which isn't a lot of time."

"I'll just speak to the royal armourer like I usually do."

Morgana resists the temptation to roll her eyes. Honestly, has Arthur learned nothing about either Gwen or Merlin in the time he's known them? How can anyone be so oblivious about people he speaks to every day?

"Gwen has all the weapons she needs, and Merlin's never shown the slightest inclination to use one," Morgana points out dryly.

Arthur looks up, frowning. "I... Well, I haven't thought about it yet."

"I know you haven't," Morgana says, shooting him a triumphant smile. "That's why you need me."

Arthur leans back in the chair and crosses his arms.

"What do you think they want?" he asks, in a tone that is more than a little defensive.

"Better clothes," Morgana says promptly. "You must have noticed that Merlin's been shivering, and I'm sure Gwen wouldn't have developed that cough if she wasn't cold."

Arthur considers her for a moment, narrowing his eyes. "What's the real reason?"

"You don't think their health and happiness is reason enough?"

"Of course it is," Arthur says, glaring at her, and for a moment they could almost be teenagers again, bickering and flirting by turns, "but if it was just about warmth then you'd have given Gwen some of your old things and not told me."

As a matter of fact, Morgana has already given Gwen a fine wool shift from her own wardrobe and not bothered to tell Arthur about it. Gwen smiled her thanks, and Morgana has seen her wearing it, but she knows second-hand clothes aren't the same as clothes that were made for you.  More importantly, Morgana knows that appearances matter. Precedent and protocol are clear that a commoner who marries a noble takes on that rank, but there is neither precedent nor protocol for the relationship between the four of them.

Morgana's guess is that the court would applaud news of a union between her and Arthur, raise eyebrows at a union between Gwen and Arthur, and smirk at any suggestion of Arthur and Merlin. Quite what they would make of the fact that Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin all share Arthur's bed, usually together, she doesn't know. One day the court will be told, but not yet, and the best way to prepare the court for that revelation is for Gwen and Merlin's change in status to be made gradually apparent.

"The court notices what they wear. If we want people to believe that Gwen and Merlin are more than servants then they need to look like it," Morgana tells him. 

"Gwen always looks lovely, and I'm sure people don't care what Merlin wears."

"Everyone cares," Morgana says curtly, her supply of patience dwindling. "What would you think if you saw a knight arrive for a tourney with only half his armour on?"

 "It would depend which pieces were missing, and what his fighting style was," Arthur says, and Morgana can tell he's being deliberately obtuse. "I mean, if he'd chosen mail instead of a breastplate—"

"Stop thinking with your sword!" Morgana snaps.  
   
"I'm going to remember you said that," says Arthur, looking amused. "I distinctly remember you having a use for my sword a few days ago."

"Are you going to act like a thirteen year old or are you going to have a civilised discussion like an adult?"

Arthur's eyes narrow to slits, and for a moment they just glare at each other. Then he looks away, and Morgana knows she's won.

"Fine. You want to get them clothes."

"They _need_ clothes."

"And you've already had something made, haven't you?" Arthur continues, sounding resigned.

"I might have done," Morgana says.

"Well, add a pair of leather gloves for Merlin to whatever you've planned. Mine don't fit him, and I'm tired of watching him rub his hands on hunting trips."

"I'll arrange it," Morgana agrees, flashing him a smile. "Enjoy shuffling all those papers."

As she sweeps from the room, Arthur's voice calls out behind her: "There's no need to be so smug about it!" 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The winter solstice ball in Camelot is the biggest holiday of the year. As a child, Gwen went to the celebrations in the lower town with her dad and Elyan. There had been a huge bonfire and merchants selling all kinds of treats — honeycombs and hot apple cider for the children, mugs of spiced ale and mead for their parents. There were musicians playing and people dancing in the street by the light of the lanterns, jigging and spinning from one partner to another.

Now, as Gwen watches the solstice ball from the sidelines, she can't help feeling that the commoners’ celebration is more fun. Whereas the party outside is raucous and filled with laughter, the atmosphere in the great hall of the castle is reserved. Here, etiquette dictates that Arthur and Morgana have to dance with all the high-ranking nobles — spurning anyone would give offence. 

Arthur has probably danced with a dozen women already, mainly the daughters of his father's advisors or former knights. Arthur was raised for court events like this and has impeccable manners when he makes the effort, so anyone who didn't know Arthur as well as Gwen does would think he was enjoying himself.

Morgana seems to be having even less fun, probably because the men queuing up to dance with her look more interested in her cleavage than conversation. The knights always flirt with Morgana as much as they dare, and it will get worse as everyone gets drunker.

"Rather them than me," Merlin says from somewhere to her left, and Gwen turns to face him.

"You mean you're not going to dance with me?"

"Do you really want me to?" asks Merlin. His tone suggests that although there are things he enjoys even less than dancing, they're along the lines of disembowelment or being burned at the stake.

"It's not like we can dance with the others," Gwen says, watching Arthur and his blonde partner tread a careful circle together.

On the far side of the room Morgana and Sir Leon are spinning far more enthusiastically, as though it's a race and they're challenging each other to concede. Gwen knows that Morgana is an excellent dancer because they learned to dance together in her chambers. Gwen smiles at the memory of afternoons spent dancing with Morgana, taking turns at leading and trying not to bump into the furniture or stumble over the rugs.

As Gwen watches them it occurs to her that she knows the steps to these dances as well as any of the nobles do. Now that she's no longer a servant and has an invitation in her own right, Gwen is entitled to dance if she wants. Perhaps the ball might be a little fun after all.

"Yes," says Gwen decisively. "Let's dance."

"You realise I don't know the steps," Merlin says doubtfully.

"I'll show you. We don't have to do it as fast as Morgana."

"Yeah, because I'd be sick.” Merlin  already looks a bit pale at the prospect.

There is a long, drawn-out note from the fiddle to mark the end of the dance, and Gwen takes her chance. She grabs Merlin's hand and drags him into the centre of the room.

They are jostled by the rush of young women putting themselves in Arthur's way before the next song, and Gwen shoots him a sympathetic smile. Arthur smiles back at her, expression warm and soft for a moment. Then his eyes flick to Merlin and back, and Arthur raises his eyebrows in a gesture that unmistakably says, "What, really?"

"You just follow my lead," Gwen tells Merlin, as the musicians play the first note.

There is a look of panic on Merlin's face, but she grasps his hand firmly, moves into the first steps of the dance and hopes Merlin will manage to follow. He steps forward with her, then back, and by the time they've walked the first circle together Merlin is smiling.

"See, it's not so hard," Gwen says encouragingly, and Merlin promptly stumbles over his own feet.  
   
Their dancing isn't exactly graceful and there are a few missteps, but Merlin mostly manages to keep up with her. _It's just as well that I learned to lead_ , Gwen thinks as she manhandles Merlin through another turn. By the end of the song Merlin is flushed and panting, but there's no longer a look of panic on his face.

"I think that's enough dancing for me," Merlin says, releasing her hand as the song finishes. "Er, am I supposed to bow, or..."

Everyone around them is bowing and curtseying, but Gwen never did that when she danced with Morgana and can't see the point of it now. Instead she just leans in to hug him briefly, and Merlin's arm wraps around her waist for a moment.

When Gwen steps back, she loses sight of Merlin almost immediately amongst the people leaving or entering the dance-floor. She heads for the edge of the room where a servant is standing with a tray of hot wine and murmurs, "Thanks," as she takes a glass.

"Gwen!" a familiar voice hisses from behind a pillar.

Gwen knows better than to turn around. She takes a few casual steps backwards, as though making more room for the dancers, and then sidles into the shadows.

"I had to escape," Morgana says. Her face is pink from the dancing, and she's leaning back against the wall to let the stone cool her skin.

Gwen offers a sympathetic smile.

"I swear, if another knight gropes me, I'll issue a challenge," Morgana continues, snagging the cup from Gwen's hand. She takes a sip of wine, and then hands Gwen back the cup.

"Arthur will be upset if you kill all his knights. Think of all those wasted hours of training," Gwen points out.

"Then he should have trained them to have better manners," says Morgana, but she's smiling now. "I saw you dancing with Merlin."

"He's nowhere near as good as you are."

"Perhaps next year I'll dance with you at the ball, and we can show them all how it's done," Morgana says, wrapping her arm around Gwen and leaning her head against Gwen's shoulder.

Gwen squeezes Morgana's arm, and for a moment they stand there together. It's at moments like this, when Gwen can touch Morgana the way she wants to, that all the protocol and expectations of court seem ridiculous.

"Right," Morgana says, straightening up. "Back into the fray. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," Gwen says, and impulsively presses a kiss to the side of Morgana's mouth. "Will I see you after the ball?"

"You will, and I'm looking forward to it already," Morgana says, giving her a suggestive smile.

The next moment, Morgana has slipped back into the crowd of people chatting at the side of the ballroom, and Gwen hears someone say, "Lady Morgana, may I have this dance?"

Gwen makes her way back into the people grouped around the edge of the room and glances around for Arthur. She finds him in the centre of a circle of people, and with this much demand for Arthur's attention, there's no chance of her dancing with him. 

Gwen isn't important enough to be in demand as a partner, so she watches as an assortment of nobles dance through several more songs. When the older members of the court start retreating to the tables at the head of the room, and most of the dancers are barely older than her, Gwen knows the ball is drawing to an end.

She sees Arthur gesture to the musicians, and a few seconds later the singer calls out, "Sire, my lords and ladies, this is the last song."

As people jostle to find partners, Gwen watches Arthur make his way determinedly through the crowd in the direction of Morgana. He holds out his hand to her, and the volume of conversation in the hall drops as people turn to stare. It is common knowledge in the court that Arthur and Morgana are close, but until tonight most of the gossip suggested that their relationship was purely platonic. By tomorrow Gwen suspects there will be a dozen new rumours circulating.

Morgana tips her head to the side, assessing him teasingly for a moment, and then places her hand in Arthur's. The musicians start to play, and Gwen watches them move through the initial steps in perfect time, Arthur's hand resting on Morgana's waist.

Morgana leans her head in, and Gwen guesses she is murmuring something into Arthur's ear. She can't see Arthur's reply, but a moment later Morgana's head is held high again and she's smiling. That's probably a good sign.

Almost everyone in the hall is watching Arthur and Morgana dance together, and they make an elegant, poised couple. They look like the fairytale image of a young king and his queen, and Gwen feels almost guilty that she is disrupting this perfect picture.

Then she sees Arthur and Morgana miss a beat, seeming to push against each other, and their next step is clumsy as though they're disagreeing over who's steering. _That's why Arthur and Morgana alone would never work,_ Gwen thinks, stifling a smile. A relationship with two leaders and no followers is doomed, but having two leaders and two people who are willing to follow brings things into balance.

When the music stops, Arthur turns to Morgana and bows. Morgana drops a curtsey so low that Gwen knows she is poking fun at the whole thing, and then he releases her hand and they part.

Arthur lingers in the crowd, probably making sure he has spoken to everyone and bidding them goodnight, whereas Morgana heads towards Gwen.

"We're on," Morgana murmurs, as she walks past Gwen to claim a glass of water from one of the servants.

Gwen scans the room for Merlin, standing on tiptoe to see him better over the crowd, and finally locates him on the opposite side of the room. He's not far from Arthur, and judging by the way Merlin is watching Arthur's movements, he has no intention of leaving the room until Arthur does. Merlin can be absurdly over-protective, but perhaps saving someone's life repeatedly has that effect.

A few people are already moving towards the doorway, and Gwen follows them, blending into the crowd. Once she's out in the corridor Gwen takes the direction towards the bedchambers, trying to give the impression that she isn't planning anything beyond an innocent discussion with Morgana.

Merlin has done his job well because there are no guards in the corridor leading to Arthur's rooms. Gwen glances around to check that nobody is watching, and then pulls the door open and slips inside, closing it quietly behind her.

Arthur's chambers have the biggest bed in the castle, but unfortunately, Arthur is also regularly disturbed by servants and people bearing news. Getting three people into Arthur's rooms at night without anyone noticing, and then getting them out again in the morning, is quite a challenge.

Gwen adds a couple of logs to the fire, partly out of sheer force of habit, but also because if Merlin's done his job correctly then no servant will be coming to Arthur's room tonight. Then she takes a seat at the table and waits. It's only a couple of minutes before the door swings open and Morgana steps inside.

Morgana's steps are slower and heavier than usual, and she gives Gwen a tired smile.

"Two less dances, and it might have been fun," Morgana says, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Unlace me?"

"Of course."

Morgana turns her back to Gwen, and Gwen reaches for the fastenings of Morgana's dress. The dress is purple silk, smooth like water across her fingers, but the corset beneath has clearly stopped being comfortable.

Gwen undoes the clasps on the dress, sliding it down over Morgana's shoulders to pool at her waist, and then carefully starts untying the laces of the corset. The action is familiar enough that her fingers work without conscious thought, and in a few moments the laces pull loose.

Morgana gives a deep sigh and shrugs her shoulders to work out some of the tension.

Arthur must still be talking to people in the hall, with Merlin waiting for him. Gwen has no intention of going to bed before they arrive, which means she and Morgana have some time to kill.

"Lift your arms," Gwen says, and after a moment's pause Morgana does.

She tugs the laces of the corset looser still and slides it over Morgana's head. Beneath it Morgana is wearing a loose white shift, and Gwen lifts that off too. There are red lines on Morgana's skin from where the fabric bunched and dug into her during the dancing.

"Lie down," she orders.

Morgana must guess at Gwen's intentions, because she swivels and lowers herself facedown onto the bed. Morgana turns her head to one side, eyes closed, and then lies still.

Gwen slips off her shoes, and then climbs onto the bed beside Morgana. She gathers Morgana's hair in her hands, pools it on the bed beside Morgana's head, and then slides her hands slowly down the bare skin of Morgana's back.

Morgana doesn't say anything, but her breathing slows and deepens as Gwen's hands work over her. She kneads gently at the muscles between Morgana's shoulder blades, working the tension out of them, and Morgana lets out a contented sigh.

Gwen's hands are moving lower, finding all the little stuff muscles in Morgana's ribcage, when she hears the door open behind her.

"Starting without us?" asks Arthur.

"Just a massage," Gwen says, without pausing.

"Why don't I ever get a massage?" Arthur asks, sounding slightly put out.

"I'm prettier than you," Morgana replies, voice muffled by the blankets.

 "You're both pretty," Gwen tells them peaceably, sliding her hands lower, and Morgana groans as her fingers find a particularly stiff spot.

"You could do that," Arthur says, clearly directing his words at Merlin, and Gwen hears Merlin's snort of amusement.

"You could do it to me," Merlin points out, and she can almost _hear_ Arthur rolling his eyes.

"I can stop if it's bothering you," Gwen offers.

"Don't stop," Morgana orders, at the same time as Merlin says, "I don't mind watching."

"It's my bed," says Arthur, his tone mock-aggrieved.

There are a series of thumps that Gwen thinks is probably the sound of Arthur removing his boots, and then he sits down on the bed beside her.

"Morgana's monopolising you," he says, lifting a hand to touch Gwen's cheek, and she leans into the touch without thinking about it.

Arthur smiles and kisses her softly, lips just brushing her mouth. Gwen lifts a hand to tangle in his hair and pulls him in for another kiss. Gwen doesn't consciously realise that she's become distracted from the massage until she hears Morgana's voice.

"You don't want to take over, do you, Merlin?"

"Er, Gauis taught me how to rub torn muscles," says Merlin.

"Not quite what I'm after," Morgana replies dryly.

Gwen feels the bed shift beneath her and pulls back from kissing Arthur. Morgana lies on one side of her, shimmying out of her dress, and Arthur sits on the other. Merlin is standing at the foot of the bed watching them all with a smile on his face.

 "I don't know about all of you, but I'm exhausted," says Arthur. "I could sleep for a week."

Gwen meets Merlin's eye, and Merlin winks at her. Perhaps tomorrow she'll find out what he did to put their plan into action.

"Then let's go to bed," Gwen says, reaching for her own laces, but Arthur's hand pushes hers away.

"I don't get to do this enough," he says, fingers fumbling at the laces on her dress. "Merlin, are you just going to stand there?"

"What else should I be doing?" Merlin asks, and despite the fact that he shares Arthur's bed there's still the teasing, challenging tone to his voice that Gwen remembers from Merlin's first week in Camelot.

"Get into bed," Arthur orders. "Or I'll take your clothes off and put you there myself."

Gwen smiles, lets Arthur boss her around, and settles into bed with Morgana curled on one side of her and Arthur's broad chest on the other. It's a good thing Arthur's bed is so comfortable, she thinks, as she drifts off to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Morgana wakes to the sound of birdsong. There's a warm body beside her, and when she opens her eyes Morgana finds Gwen still asleep, her dark curls tousled around her face.

On the far side of Gwen is Arthur, sprawled on his back with one arm on top of the blanket as though he even while sleeping he's ready to lunge for his sword at any moment. Merlin is on the far side of the bed, lying with his head on Arthur's shoulder. Of them all, Merlin is the one who most likes to cuddle.

Morgana wasn't sure if they would wake up together the morning after the solstice ball, but she hoped they would and planned accordingly. The presents she arranged for Gwen, Merlin, and Arthur are packed in a small chest near Arthur's wardrobe, and she slides silently out of bed and walks over to it.

The hinges of the chest creak slightly when she starts to open it, and Morgana wills them to be quiet and hopes her magic will cooperate. She opens the chest without further noise, pulls out the three packages inside, and crosses back to the bed.

"Happy solstice, Gwen," she says, placing Gwen's present on the bed, and leaning down to kiss Gwen's cheek.

Gwen stirs, opens her eyes, and smiles.

"Oh," she says. "It's morning."

"Your present," Morgana says, indicating it. "From Arthur and me."

Morgana reaches across Gwen's body and pokes Arthur in the ribs. "Here's yours," she says.

"I didn't know you were getting me something," Arthur mumbles, his eyes still closed. "I didn't find a gift for you."  
   
 "I have quite enough shields, daggers, and sheep to be getting on with," Morgana tells him, leaving Arthur's gift on his naked chest.

She walks round the foot of the bed to the far side, where Merlin is already awake and stretching.

"And for you, Merlin," she says, handing him the parcel wrapped with blue ribbon.

"Thanks," Merlin says, taking the gift.

He turns it over in his hands and then squeezes it thoughtfully, trying to guess what's inside.

Morgana hears a soft, "Oh!" and looks over at Gwen.

"It's beautiful," Gwen says, staring at the fur-trimmed fabric.

The hardest thing about choosing the solstice gifts was deciding on the colour of Gwen's cloak. Merlin always wears the same shades of bright blue and red, so picking out fabric for him was easy, but Gwen looks beautiful in every colour and seems to wear them all with equal enthusiasm. Morgana has seen her in pale lilacs and pinks, rich reds and greens, orange silk, and purple velvet.

Eventually she chose a rich yellow shade for Gwen, because it's a colour that nobody else in Camelot wears, and because Gwen is warm and bright like the sun. It's Gwen's love that pulls the four of them together, anchoring them. Besides, it seems appropriate to give Gwen a sunshine-coloured cloak on the morning after the winter solstice, when the hours of sunlight start to lengthen. There may be snow on the ground and months of winter ahead of them, but Gwen's cloak is a reminder of warmth and the coming spring.

Gwen unfolds the cloak, and then shakes it out over the bed. Morgana watches Gwen run her fingers over the soft yellow wool and then stroke the dark fur trim. She looks mesmerised, as though it's something wholly outside her expectations or experience, and Morgana wonders if she should have given Gwen something like this sooner.

"Thank you!" Gwen says, turning to kiss Arthur, and then reaching out her hands to Morgana. "It's... It's incredible. I can't even—"

"You don't have to," Morgana says, catching Gwen's hand and squeezing it. "Are you going to open yours, Merlin?"

"Er, yeah," Merlin says, dragging his eyes away from Gwen.

Morgana watches Merlin untie the ribbon and pull aside the fabric his gift is wrapped in. A pair of leather gloves falls out onto the bed, followed by the heavy slither of the blue woollen cloak.

Merlin grins, and pulls on one of the gloves. It fits perfectly, of course, because Morgana made an excuse to send him to the pottery and plant both of his hands into wet clay. The woman who made the gloves is a skilled enough leatherworker that she can translate a mould of your hands into gloves that fit like a second skin.

"Great!" Merlin says, beaming at Morgana and then at Arthur. "Which of you...?"

"I chose the cloak," Morgana puts in. "Arthur said you needed gloves."

"I didn't know you cared," says Merlin, nudging Arthur with his elbow.

"I wouldn't care if all your shivering and hand-rubbing didn't frighten away the game," Arthur replies, trying to sound indifferent.

Sometimes Morgana can't understand how someone this juvenile can possibly be _king_.

Merlin beams at Arthur, and Arthur makes a face at him and reaches out to tousle Merlin's hair. Perhaps that's as close as they'll ever get to saying "Thank you" and "You're welcome."

They all look expectantly at Arthur, who is holding the one remaining unopened present. He pulls at the ribbon. As it unwinds, the wrapping cloth falls away to reveal a silk scarf in a shade of purple so dark it's almost black.

Arthur stares down at the scarf and then up at Morgana.

"You can't be expecting me to wear this," he says.

"Merlin wears a neckerchief," Morgana points out.

"It doesn't matter if Merlin looks like an imbecile."

"Hey!" Merlin protests.

"How will it look to the knights if I'm going round in a lady’s scarf?" Arthur demands.

"You are such a prat," Merlin tells Arthur, for what is probably the millionth time.

"It would look as though you were wealthy and secure in your masculinity," Morgana says, purely for the pleasure of seeing Arthur splutter, which he does. "Bu, actually, I didn't buy it for you to wear around your neck."

"What am I supposed to do with it, then?"Arthur asks, eyes narrowing slightly.

"You're supposed to lie back and look pretty," Morgana says, leaning over Merlin to take the scarf from Arthur's hand, "while we do this."

She lifts the scarf to Arthur's eyes, and then twists her hands behind his head so that the fabric pulls tight.

"Morgana," Arthur says warningly. "What if I'm needed for affairs of state?"

"You won't be," Merlin says. "Not today. I, er, did something to make sure you wouldn't."

"That's excellent news," Morgana says, knotting the scarf behind Arthur's head.

She tugs on the scarf to check that it's secure and then inspects the front. Arthur's eyes are completely covered, and Morgana doubts he can see anything at all.

"What kind of something?" Arthur asks suspiciously, reaching back to fumble with the knot. Morgana bats his hands away.

"A magical something," Merlin says.

"If it's the dragon again—" Arthur begins.

"It's not the dragon. I just, well, figured out a spell that would keep the kingdom safe for a bit."

"You mean," Arthur says slowly, "that all this time you could have just protected Camelot with _magic_? You might have mentioned it last winter when I was up to my knees in mud on the campaign."

"I don't have the power to do it every day," Merlin replies, as though this is obvious. "But I thought for a special occasion, as a present..."

"So you all planned this," Arthur says, gesturing blindly and almost hitting Merlin in the head.

"Not really," Morgana answers, at the same time as Gwen says, "Um..." and Merlin says, "Yes."

Morgana looks from Arthur, who is pouting, but has given up trying to remove the blindfold, to Merlin, to Gwen.

"What did _you_ plan?" Morgana asks Gwen.

"We, er," Gwen says, shooting a look at Merlin. "We thought it would be nice to have a day together, just the four of us. So Merlin did his spell, and I arranged to have the meals delivered outside the door, so we won't have to go anywhere, and nobody will have to come in."

Morgana feels a slow smile spread across her face.

"You hear that Arthur?" she asks. "A whole day alone in the bedroom. How will we occupy ourselves?"

 "I am king," Arthur says petulantly.

"But you don't have to be today," Gwen says. "Not that I'm questioning your authority, because I wouldn't, but...well, wouldn't it be nice not to have to worry about that for a few hours?"

"I don't see why," says Arthur, and Morgana has a horrible feeling that he's working himself up into a temper. It would be just like Arthur to ruin a perfectly good opportunity to have fun by fretting about _honour, duty_ , and _royal obligations_.

Gwen is obviously thinking the same thing, because she grasps the blankets, slides them down to the level of Arthur's hips, and then bends to press a kiss to Arthur's bare stomach.

"I — who was that?" Arthur asks.

"Does it matter?" Morgana says, as Gwen starts to kiss her way down Arthur's belly.

Merlin grins and leans over to nip at Arthur's earlobe with his teeth.

There's something incredibly sexy about the sight of Arthur stretched out on the bed like this, passive and almost vulnerable. Usually Arthur tries to direct their activities in bed as though he was commanding an army, but now he's laid out like terrain awaiting conquest. _Yes_ , Morgana thinks, _we could have a lot of fun with that_.

"What are you—" says Arthur, his breath catching as Merlin sucks on the sensitive spot under his ear.

"Isn't it obvious?" Merlin mutters.

Morgana eases herself onto the bed beside Merlin, who shifts over to make room, and reaches across to slide her hand over Arthur's nipple.

Arthur squirms beneath her hand, and Morgana exchanges a smile with Gwen that she interprets as meaning: _Let's see how much more we can make him squirm_.

Morgana circles Arthur's nipple with the tip of her finger, watching it rise to a peak, and then squeezes it between her finger and thumb. Arthur's hips buck, and Morgana sees Gwen spread her hand over Arthur's hip and press him back to the mattress.

The problem with having four people in bed is that there are almost too many options. Morgana has been at enough Royal Council meetings to know that reaching agreement about what to do often takes longer than doing it. Sometimes the best plan is to improvise.

Gwen pushes the blankets aside, and Merlin abandons his place by Arthur's neck in favour of joining Gwen on the lower half of the bed. Morgana pinches Arthur's nipple again and watches as first Merlin, then Gwen, lick at Arthur's cock.

"Oh fuck," Arthur gasps, clutching at the sheets.

"Patience," Morgana tells him and reaches for his other nipple.

Gwen and Merlin have always made an excellent team, and they're showing it now. Merlin is sucking the head of Arthur's cock, while Gwen licks up and down the shaft. When their lips brush together Gwen smiles, and Merlin pulls off Arthur's cock for a moment to kiss her.

For a moment Morgana feels Arthur's body still beneath her hands, and leans down to suck his nipple into her mouth. Then Arthur shudders, and she knows Gwen and Merlin have resumed their task.

Merlin often likes to tease Arthur, holding him on the edge until Arthur curses (and on one memorable occasion begged). She watches Merlin slide his mouth up and down Arthur's cock a few times, lips pink and damp. When Merlin releases Arthur's cock, Gwen immediately takes his place. 

Morgana grazes her teeth over Arthur's nipple gently and out of the corner of her eye watches Merlin flicker his tongue over Arthur's balls. Arthur gasps and arches nearly off the bed.  
   
Morgana licks both of Arthur's nipples to wet them, then rubs one hand over each and sits back to enjoy the show. Merlin and Gwen are both bent over Arthur's body, moving in synchrony with one another, Gwen's dark hair falling over Merlin's shoulder. Arthur is trembling, his hands fisted in the sheets, and Morgana guesses he's only moments away from coming.

Gwen pulls off Arthur's cock with a muted pop, and Arthur lets out a deep groan.

"Finish it!"

"Don't be so bossy," Merlin says.

The next moment Merlin's and Gwen's tongues tangle around the head of Arthur's cock together. Morgana feels Arthur's whole body tense, and then he comes, spurting over Gwen and Merlin's lips.

 Gwen wrinkles her nose, sitting up to look around for a cloth, but Merlin licks his lips and then catches Gwen's chin in his hand. Morgana watches as Merlin leans in and licks all traces of Arthur's come from Gwen's mouth and chin.

Morgana slides her hand over Gwen's waist, and Gwen turns with a smile. Morgana kisses her, and when Gwen's lips part Morgana can faintly taste the salty trace of Arthur on her mouth.

"Are you going to remove this now?" demands Arthur.

Morgana ignores him, deepening the kiss and running her hand up Gwen's side to cup the warm swell of her breast.

She hears Merlin reply, "Nah, I think we'll leave it there."

"Morgana!" Arthur says imperiously.

"She's really not paying any attention to you at the moment," Merlin tells him.

"Guinevere?" Arthur tries.

"Face facts, Arthur, we're not letting you up," says Merlin, and Morgana can't help smiling at that.

"Good plan," she murmurs, breathing the words against Gwen's mouth, and feels Gwen's lips curve into a smile.

The bed shifts beneath them, and Morgana hears the sounds of a scuffle and then Merlin muttering a spell: presumably Arthur attempting to remove the blindfold, and Merlin pinning him to the bed.

"Glad you're enjoying it," Gwen replies, and Morgana feels Gwen's hand settle into the small of her back, tugging her closer. "Happy solstice."

That's right, Morgana remembers. Outside the snow is glittering in the sun, which will grow brighter every day from now until midsummer — even the darkest point of winter hints at the summer ahead of them. A small part of Morgana feels she should be outdoors celebrating the extra daylight as the druids do, but she'd be a fool to leave this bed.

Morgana lets herself fall back onto the mattress, and Gwen lands on top of her, breasts pressing against Morgana's ribcage. Gwen nudges Morgana's legs apart with her knee, sliding her hand over Morgana's hip, and Morgana catches her mouth in another kiss. If there's a better way than this to spend a winter's day then Morgana hasn't found it yet.


End file.
